Can you take this lonely girl?
And pick her up from off the ground?
A volcano? A disconnection? And now a flood? What on earth was going on? Shyra thought this to herself as she drifted along, her slightly wavy curtains of platinum blonde hair covering her face. It wasn't a particularly nice day, just mild, well, she thought just mild, but some would see it as cold, some hot...the world was so confusing to her. She had always been baffled about how no one was the same. She would like to be the same as everyone else so why didn't anyone else want to be like all the normal people like she did? Maybe it was cause they already were normal, she was the only odd one. Well, she thought odd, but to us knowing audience, she was in fact just suffering from a birth defect. There wasn't anything actually physically wrong with Shyra, she just thought there was. She hated it when she opened her mouth and so she kept it shut and the fact she couldn't talk to anyone made her deadly shy, well, we could say shy, but to her, she was scared, no, scratch that. Shyra was petrified.
So this was why on this, mild/hot/cold day she drifted along silently, alone. It was like any other day to her to be honest, no company, no one to have to talk to or try and smile with. She didn't like being alone, but she'd slowly learnt to be over the embarrassing years. Believe it or not, even though she was pretty, men steered away from her, scared by the fact that should they come near her, she might lash out, shout and make strange sound. Yes, she wasn't half a catch with the male gender and so, she remained in her own little quiet world, seperate from sex, drugs, chatter and boys. The sun was hidden behind a thick ash cloud once again and she felt once again like a wilted flower, slowly dying in the darkness. Her hair was noticeable in the blackness thankfully so it wasn't exactly hard to see her. Shame on her however. Shyra wished to be invisible. untouchable.
Other people however, we not as noticeable as herself and as she drifted along, humming to herself, she suddenly found herself colliding with an object. Or person. Shyra scuttled backwards and stood up, brushing herself off. She mumbled, trying to say sorry without opening her mouth but it just came out as a grumbled embarrassed sound before she tried to look through the dark to see a face if she could. Maybe they'd see the apology in her eyes, maybe not, but she certainly wasn't about to let her soft pink lips part to say it. Never...well...she thought never...
There's no pride, to be found
When you follow sheep around...
Shyra Talownski
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